


Midwinter

by PhoenixTalon



Category: Midsommar (2019)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:13:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22037611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhoenixTalon/pseuds/PhoenixTalon
Summary: As midwinter approaches, the Hårga prepare their next ceremony to celebrate the coming frost. The May Queen is to be honored, adored, and, should she will it, choose a consort as her companion through the dark winter months.  Dani does not believe anyone would be interested in being her consort.  Pelle disagrees.
Relationships: Dani Ardor/Pelle (Midsommar)
Comments: 108
Kudos: 646





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A helpful friend on Twitter translated the Swedish for me.

They were going to kill her next.

It was only logical. Once the Midsommar celebrations were complete, once her title of May Queen was completed, once the community settled into their usual routines, Dani felt certain they would kill her. Perhaps for their next ritual. A harvest festival? A midwinter ceremony? Dani didn’t know. She didn’t especially care.

The thought did not concern her. Death was no longer something to be feared, just an inevitability she would reckon with when the time came. She had lost her sister, her parents, and now Christian…

She did not want to think about Christian. His death had brought her a euphoric, crazed delight, a sense of control that she’d never felt before. 

She smiled. It was still dark, but she knew it was morning. Her body had shifted its circadian rhythms to accept darkness as a reality in the fall and winter, She smiled a lot more nowadays, it seemed. 

“Dani? Are you awake?”

She shifted to her side. Her bed used to be next to Christian’s and Josh’s, but now there was no more Christian or Josh. Now her bed lay next to Pelle’s, which gave her a curious combination of fear and protection. 

“Now I am,” She whispered back to him. 

“It’s morning now,” He said softly and sat up. “Let’s walk together.”

She raised herself up on one elbow. No one else seemed to be up, save for a few mothers who were cooing at fussy babies. 

“It’s still dark,” She murmured.

“It will get darker as we get closer to Yule. Come. It’ll be too cold for morning walks soon.”

He offered his hand to her. Pelle had been taking her on a lot of walks lately. He was an early riser naturally, something that Dani would never be able to relate to, but she shrugged nevertheless and pulled on a pair of denim shorts. 

Pelle shook his head. “Too cold for those. Almost October.”

She looked at him. He knew perfectly well that she only had about a week’s worth of clothes, all summer garments. She was only supposed to have been here for a week. 

“Here,” He tossed her a pair of fleece-lined pants. She’d seen him wear them before. They were far too big for her, but she was able manage them, tightening the strings as far as they would go. He gave her a sweatshirt too and she tugged it on as well. It smelled a little of peppermint and something flipped in her stomach. She hadn’t worn another man’s clothes since Christian…

“Ready?” He asked her with a smile. 

“You owe me coffee,” She returned and pulled on her sneakers. 

“Deal,” He took her hand in his and led her outside.

It was that odd time of morning partial to Sweden, where darkness surrounded the community but light framed the edges, as though the sun wanted to come out but wasn’t sure how. The cold grass tickled Dani’s ankles and she shivered a little. Pelle squeezed her hand a little as they began to make their usual rounds about the compound. 

“I’m surprised it hasn’t snowed,” She commented. 

“Soon,” Pelle told her. “Probably this week, actually. We’ll need to get you warmer clothes.” 

Dani said nothing. She didn’t see much point in that, since she was fairly certain they would kill her eventually. Still, Pelle seemed to expect a response, so she said simply, “I like wearing your clothes.”

Pelle laughed. “I like you wearing them too. But they’re too tall for you. You’re so small, Dani.”

His voice was undeniably tender and Dani looked up at him. He cared for her, at least of a sort. Months and months had passed since the summer solstice. Perhaps he was fond enough of her to be truthful now.

She stopped short in front of the remains of the burned temple. The fastidious Hårga had not cleaned up much of the temple ruins; she could still see the blackened pieces of wood all around. She inhaled deeply and smelled the incoming frost Pelle warned her of—but in her mind’s eye, she could still smell the pungent stench of burning flesh. 

“When will you rebuild it?” She asked him.

“Spring,” Pelle told her. “One of our rituals to welcome the sun. And you’ll preside, as our May Queen.”

Dani looked at him hard. “Will I?”

Pelle looked surprised. “What do you mean?”

“I’m the last one left,” She said pointedly. “How long do I have?”

Realization clouded Pelle’s sky blue eyes. “Oh, Dani…no. You are our May Queen. We won’t have another queen for ninety years; until the next Midsommar celebration…that is, we will still celebrate the solstice. But not like last time.”

Dani digested this. She doubted this meant that the Hårga would let her leave. This didn’t particularly bother her though, because Dani was having trouble remembering what there was to return to. Her family was dead, Christian was gone, and she couldn’t quite summon the energy to care about finishing her degree. She had friends that were probably wondering where she was. 

“What will I do here?” She asked him.

“Whatever you please,” Pelle told her seriously. “We honor the May Queen. She is…our goddess, you might say.”

Dani considered. “What does that entail?”

“Different ceremonies,” Pelle knelt down and picked up a bit of charred wood interestedly. “A ceremony to say goodbye to the sun—we’ll symbolically say goodbye to you and you will sleep in your own rooms, rather than in the common area. When spring comes again, we welcome the sun and you back into our common area. We celebrate, we feast, we make merry—”

“Sounds lonely,” Dani said without thinking. She wasn’t sure where that came from. When she first arrived at Hårga, she’d resented the lack of privacy. The cacophony of coughs, snores, and lovemaking kept her up at all hours. But somehow she’d gotten used to it and her own chambers, separate from the Hårga seemed isolating. 

“No, no,” Pelle shook his head. “We adore our May Queen. We…pamper her, you might say. The best foods, wines, ales, whatever she needs. And she may choose a consort, if she wishes.”

He tossed the charred wood towards the temple and Dani started a bit. “Consort?”

“Yes,” Pelle replied but didn’t seem inclined to elaborate. Dani waited a few moments and when she realized Pelle wasn’t going to continue, she exhaled.

“What does a consort do?” She crossed her arms. 

A small, somewhat sly smile crossed Pelle’s face. “Oh…whatever the May Queen desires.”

“Ah,” Dani kicked a piece of burnt wood. “I get it. I don’t know if I’d be into that.” 

Pelle cocked his head. “Oh?”

She really did not want to get into this conversation. Besides, he’d been close to Christian, hadn’t he? He probably had heard all about how bad she was in bed, how frigid she was, how there was something wrong with her. She chewed her lip. She had walked in on Christian complaining to Mark about this very subject once, and she recalled the burning humiliation and the subsequent fight. 

“I don’t want to force anyone to do anything they don’t want to,” Dani said finally. “Especially with me.”

“No one forces anyone to do anything,” Pelle told her earnestly. “It’s considered an honor to be chosen by the May Queen. But people may refuse the gift, if they wish.”

“They’d refuse with me,” Dani retorted.

“What makes you say that?”

“Pelle,” Dani sighed. “I’m not stupid. I know—I know Christian complained about me to you and Mark and Josh.”

The sun had just started its slow ascent and Dani noticed its cautious gold touch the tips of Pelle’s hair. He was silent for a long moment, as though trying to pick his words carefully. 

“Christian was my dear friend,” He said finally. “But he—was not always honest with himself.”

He scratched his head. “My sister was not overly impressed by him. Nor my aunts.”

Pelle was referring to the strange, outlandish sex ritual Dani had caught Christian participating in with Pelle’s underage sister. She shuddered at the memory. 

“Is that what it’s like here?” She asked in disgust. “All those women watching? Chanting?”

He shrugged. “Not always. Maja wanted to get pregnant. It was her first time, so she was nervous. Our aunties were there to support her, comfort her, ask the gods for a baby.”

There was so much of Hårga culture Dani would never understand. Women crooning over her as a man penetrated her—the idea seemed repulsive. The ritual seemed to have worked, in any case; Maja had announced her pregnancy a week prior. The news had filled Dani with the strangest emotion of all—apathy. She did not care that Maja was having Christian’s baby. She had no jealousy, no anger, just blissful neutrality. 

“My point is,” Pelle cleared his throat. “I thought—I have always thought—Christian was unfair to you.” 

Dani narrowed her eyes. “You’re just saying that to be nice.”

“No,” He shook his head. “In fact…”

He hesitated for a moment and Dani stared at him curiously. The sun had nearly risen now, and people were leaving the common area to prepare breakfast and start their early morning chores. 

“I would show you,” Pelle said finally. “If you were to choose me as your consort.”

Dani’s mouth went dry. She hadn’t felt this taken aback since she’d been named the May Queen and he’d taken her face in his hands and kissed her so deeply. Color rushed to her cheeks and she couldn’t figure out how to respond.

“Pelle! Jag behöver prata med dig.”

Odd was calling him. Pelle cast a almost mischievous grin towards her and jogged towards Odd. Odd glanced at her and gave her a cautious smile. Dani couldn’t seem to figure out how to move her legs. She watched the two men disappear around one of the cabins, speaking in rapid Swedish. 

I would show you, if you were to choose me as your consort.

She hadn’t planned on choosing anyone as her consort. Spending the entire winter having her every whim catered to seemed a promising prospect (though who could really tell with the silver-tongued Hårga), but the whole concubine nonsense seemed…archaic. She didn’t need a consort. She was just fine on her own. Sex was stressful and Christian had played on every insecurity of hers when they were together, making the whole prospect seem so unappealing…it had been a relief when he stopped bothering her for sex, which only happened after her family died…

She thought of the barely concealed disgust on Pelle’s face as he’d delicately suggested that Christian had been the problem, not her. She was also forced to admit that she thought of his kiss more often than she should. It was not the gentle kisses on her cheeks her handmaids (as they called themselves) gave her when she was crowned, but something altogether deep and passionate. 

He hadn’t kissed her again, so did it truly matter?

She started towards one of the cabins, where she knew they would be preparing breakfast. But as she crossed the commune, she couldn’t help but hear Pelle and Odd speaking passionately. 

They were standing near Pelle’s garden and hadn’t noticed her—not that they would’ve cared. Most of the Hårga believed her Swedish was rudimentary at best, and they were mostly right. But while her conversation skills were lacking, Dani understood more than they thought. 

She was not an eavesdropper at any rate, so she would’ve walked on by—until she heard her name. 

“Stannar du här på grund av Dani?”

She froze. She understood that sentence. Odd was asking Pelle if he was staying because of her. In an instant, she remembered that Pelle was in university too and had not returned to finish his degree. 

“Hon är ensam.”

She is…something. But by the concern in Pelle’s tone, Dani guessed he was explaining why. 

“Din resa är inte slut än.”

Odd was telling him he wasn’t finished with…a journey? His journey. 

“Mitt öde är här.”

Pelle’s journey was…here. Here? 

“Älskar du henne?”

She didn’t understand that one. Odd was asking him something. Something about her.

“Ja.”

Yes. Dani shook herself. Enough snooping. She was hungry. So what if it sounded like Pelle was staying in Hårga for her? What did it matter? They would dispose of her as soon as she inevitably offended them. Like Mark. Like Josh. Pelle was too optimistic. And anyway, why should she trust him?

The memory of his lips on hers flashed through her mind. She swallowed hard.

Fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

They changed her dress from white to black. 

The white dress was lined in bright blues and reds; every color of spring. She was bedecked in flowers until she looked like some unholy nymph. But now the black dress was embroidered in deep golds and silvers. A crown of holly was placed on her head and ash was smeared on her cheeks. The women cried as they dressed Dani; so deep was their grief that she suddenly wondered if Pelle had lied to her. Perhaps they were dressing her for her funeral.

At sundown, Hannah, one of her “handmaids” whispered to her that they would light the torches while she waited in one of the preparation rooms. Once the torches were lit, they would carry her on their shoulders, singing songs of lament to her new quarters. And there she would stay. 

It seemed like imprisonment. 

There was a knock at the door. Pelle cautiously entered and brightened when he saw her. 

“You look…” He paused for a moment. “Like a goddess.” 

Dani’s lips twisted. He was exaggerating, obviously. But on the other hand, Pelle wasn’t prone to exaggeration. He was relatively straight with her, something she appreciated among the secretive community. He wouldn’t tell her something like that unless he meant it. 

“I wanted to see you,” Pelle cleared his throat. “Before the ceremony begins. I will…miss our time together.” 

Dani twisted a lock of hair. “It’s not like I’m dying.”

He chuckled. “It is to us. This is our farewell to our May Queen, our farewell to the sun. We won’t see her again for a long while. And I…will miss her very much.”

Her mouth went dry. She couldn’t think of anything to say. She was saved from responding by another knock at the door. 

Dani looked towards the door and as though anticipating her assent, it opened and Siv stepped into the room. Her eyebrows rose when she noticed Pelle, but she did not acknowledge him. Instead, she sized Dani up in her queenly way and smiled in approval.

“How beautiful our May Queen looks! And how we will miss her when she departs.”

Siv took Dani’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead. There was nothing but deep love and compassion in the older woman’s face and Dani felt a lump rise in her throat, suddenly missing her mother intensely. 

“Are you ready to begin?” She asked Dani seriously. She cast a quick glance at Pelle. “Still here? You should be getting ready with the others.”

Pelle nodded briskly and started towards the door. Something like panic rose in Dani as she watched him step away from her. All winter…I won’t see him all winter. I’ll be alone all winter!

“Um—wait!”

Pelle stopped short. Siv looked at her curiously.

“Um—I’m—I’m allowed to choose a consort?” 

She wasn’t imagining it. Pelle beamed at her in pure delight. Siv smiled too.

“You may, but Pelle said you were not interested. Have you changed your mind?”

“Um…” Dani cleared her throat. “I—well—I’d like to choose…Pelle. As my consort. If he—if he wants.”

She stared at her feet. She just didn’t want to be alone. It was pathetic, but being locked away for three months all by herself, even if the community spoiled her, sounded awful. She’d make it clear to Pelle that she didn’t expect anything from him but company. He wouldn’t have to force himself. 

“Pelle, do you accept?” Siv asked indulgently, though it was clear from her expression she knew the answer.

“Ja.” He provided no follow-up, but he continued to grin at Dani unashamedly. She tried to avoid looking at him directly. She was already red as a tomato.

“All right. You’d better get ready anyhow. We’ll see you in front of our May Queen’s quarters.” 

****

It started to snow when the ceremony begun.

Pelle had been correct. Winter had arrived with no introduction, regardless of whether they were to perform this ceremony or not. Snow blanketed the village thickly and Dani shivered as she stared out the window. 

Siv wrapped her up in a thick dark fur-lined cloak. She slipped warm boots ont o Dani’s feet, gave her a rabbit fur muff, and with two fingers, traced ash streaks on Dani’s face. She hummed something in Swedish and tilted her chin upwards. 

“Our beautiful, tragic queen,” She murmured pleased. “We shall miss you, Dani. Our sun. Our warmth. Our May Queen.”

The sincerity in the elder woman’s tone made Dani swallow hard. A chorus of voices began to sing outside the cabin. Siv and Dani turned towards the haunting song, just out of doors.

“It is time.” 

She bowed her head. The village’s song rose through the rafters in an eerie crescendo and the doors to the cabin opened. The doors opened and Dani met the gaze of the singing village. 

They held candles aloft and their voices became hushed whispers as she stepped into the snow. The snow crushed under her feet as the cold bit her cheeks. A path had been laid before her, a path of holly branches and golden leaves. She walked forward, following the path of lit candles, bolstered by the eerie harmonies surrounding her. The snow tickled her hair and she realized Pelle was now walking with her. She looked up at him but he did not look back at her; his eyes remained downcast. She detected a small smile form on his features as she stared up at him but he kept his head bowed respectfully. 

They made their way through the woods as the snow fell more thickly. Even wrapped up in her furs, Dani felt cold. She shuddered a little and felt dampness on her cheeks—tears or snow? She wasn’t sure. Did it make a difference?

The caravan stopped abruptly. Dani found herself looking up at a magnificent cabin, decorated with runes, multicolored glass ornaments chiming softly in the breeze. It looked like a medieval hunting lodge, the kind kings and queens would use on their journeys. 

“I shall speak English so you understand,” Siv whispered to her gently. She then turned to the crowd.

“We say goodbye to our sun, our warmth, our Midsommar—our May Queen. Let us be reminded of the sunshine she brought us, let us think of her in the winter’s chill, let her face be our inspiration in the dark.”

The doors to the cabin opened. A chorus of wailing started all around Dani as she slowly made her way into the cabin. She turned to give one last glance at the people, her people. They were all on their knees, grieving her like she was dead.

Siv staggered to the doors, her face shining with tears, and closed them. Dani was embraced by darkness.

For a long moment, she did nothing but stare at the closed doors. She stood there for so long, she actually jumped with lights came on behind her.

She whipped around to see Pelle look slightly abashed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just didn’t want you standing in the dark.”

Dani shivered. “It’s cold in here.”

“I’ll light a fire.”

She watched him walk towards across the room towards an ornate fireplace. She took a few hesitant steps, noting the cabin’s intricate decorations. There were illustrations all over the walls and ceiling, just like the community house. But as she looked more closely, the drawings and paintings were more…lurid. 

May queens, in various throes of ecstasy, with men, women, everyone in between. She gaped at one painting, which included seven consorts, all pleasuring the queen in ways Dani hadn’t even imagined before. 

She looked towards Pelle who had successfully built a roaring fire. He glanced at her and noticed she was staring at the walls. 

“They’re very old,” He said cheerfully, as though he was blissfully ignorant of the pornographic images all around them. “Hundreds and hundreds of years old.”

“You can choose more than one consort?” Dani asked, gesturing towards one of the paintings.

“Of course,” Pelle replied. “Did you…did you want—”

“No!” Dani said quickly. “No. One’s enough. I just—I was just surprised, that’s all.”

“You’re sweating,” Pelle noted. He went to her and gently helped her shrug off her furs. She started to jerk off her boots but Pelle led her to a settee and sat her down. He knelt before her and very carefully took off both of her boots, as though she were Cinderella. 

Dani looked about her. “Why haven’t I seen this place before?”

“It’s just for queens,” Pelle explained. “It is a sacred place, designed for her comfort.”

It did seem cozy. Blankets and furs stacked in the corner, a roaring fire, bookshelves lined with books, some even in English. She could see a little hallway with a narrow stairway; presumably that led to the bedroom. 

She couldn’t help but shiver again. Pelle’s palms were warm on her bare feet and the coziness of the fire was starting to make her…she didn’t know what. 

“Have you, um,” Dani cleared her throat. “Have you ever—been a consort before?”

He grinned at her. “No. Why?”

“I was just wondering if you’d been here before.”

“It’s new to me too.” He frowned when she noticed her shiver again. “Cold still? I’ll make you some hot chocolate.”

Pelle swooped around towards a cabinet across from her and pulled out a glass jar and mug. For someone who had never been here, he certainly seemed to know his way around. She watched as he opened up what looked like a trap door and pulled another glass quart of milk. 

“You know—” She cleared her throat. “You don’t have to do anything.”

He looked at her curiously. “Hot chocolate would warm you up. Would you prefer tea or coffee?”

“No, I mean—hot chocolate is fine. I meant—you don’t have to do anything. With me. I don’t expect that of you.” She nodded at the walls to make her point. 

Pelle’s mouth curved a little. “Ah. Now I see.” 

She tucked her knees under her and looked away. Pelle did not make any move towards her, instead poured the milk into a saucepan and began to stir the chocolate in. He went towards the fire and began to heat the concoction. 

“Dani,” He kept his eyes on the chocolate. “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be.”

She swallowed. “I already told you. With Christian—”

“We spoke of this. I don’t think you were the problem.”

His gaze remained intent on the chocolate—thank God. Dani couldn’t exactly look at him in the eye. She exhaled slowly. 

“I just don’t think you understand,” She swallowed. “How bad it was. It’s not fair to blame Christian. It was really me. I never wanted to, it was uncomfortable at best and painful at worst. And I know this. His exes never had a problem with him.”

Pelle snorted. “Did they discuss it with you?”

Of course not. Christian had two exes, one in the anthropology department he was still somewhat friendly with, another from the English department. Dani had seen Anthropology major in passing and had read a few of the English major’s short stories in the literature magazine. The relationship with the English major had ended badly, but Dani didn’t know the details. But Christian had felt no reservations telling her that they’d never had a problem in bed with him. 

“You heard this from Christian,” Pelle correctly read Dani’s expression. He looked skeptical, as though he didn’t consider this a reliable source.

“He’s never lied to me,” Dani tried to argue than stopped herself. That wasn’t true. Christian had lied to her. He’d lied about his trip to Sweden and when Dani confronted him about, it had been her fault. The realization hit her deeply and she stared into the fireplace, at a loss.

“Has it occurred to you,” Pelle said to her hot chocolate, stirring it carefully. “That perhaps I wanted this?”

She gaped at him. He did not meet her gaze, simply kept stirring the chocolate intently.

He wanted this? How could he? Who could want to be stuck in a cabin with her for three to six months? A brief flitting thought came, suggesting that perhaps he…perhaps he wanted her. The idea seemed ridiculous. She wasn’t anything special.

Pelle came to her and handed her the mug. “Here.” 

She took the mug gratefully, her thoughts swirling. Wasn’t that how Pelle always treated her, though? As if…she was special? But then again, who could trust Pelle? His kindness to others depended solely on how it affected his home. Where did she fall into that?

She raised the mug to her lips and sipped. She expected it to burn her tongue, but she was surprised to find the chocolate was the perfect temperature, warm and inviting. She drank a little more deeply, enjoying the way it warmed her toes. 

“Does it taste all right?” He asked her, joining her on the settee.

“Yeah,” She gave him a half smile. “It could use some marshmallows.”

“We’ll get you marshmallows, first thing in the morning,” He promised her, very seriously. She laughed at his solemn tone and took another long sip. 

She noticed he was staring at her intently and offered him the mug. “Are you cold too? Do you want some?”

Pelle smiled a little and shook his head. “I’m fine. But you have a little…” He motioned towards his upper lip. 

Dani wrinkled. Had she gotten chocolate on her mouth like a child? She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She looked at Pelle again. 

“Gone?”

“Ah…” He moved towards her. “Here.”

His thumb brushed the corner of her lip. She watched, transfixed, as he brought his thumb to his mouth and sucked the chocolate away. She swallowed hard, her stomach flipping at the intensity in his gaze. 

“Is it…gone now?” Her voice came out a whisper. It was the only thing she could think of saying.

Pelle’s eyes heated. “Not quite.”

And that was when he kissed her.

Her first kiss with Pelle had been under the influence of a drug haze, right after she had been crowned May Queen. It had been brief, but too passionate a kiss to simply write off as an overzealous European congratulating her. It had lasted far too long and she remembered seeing Christian’s face afterwards—irritated with her that she’d won the competition and the focus was no longer on him, irritated that he was left out, irritated about the kiss… 

Pelle’s kiss had lingered with her, even when she tried not to think about it. 

But this was different. She had taken no drugs, hadn’t even had a glass of wine with supper. The only thing loosening her inhibitions was hot chocolate, but Dani felt completely intoxicated. Dani always thought she preferred kissing to sex, but this was a whole other level for her. He tasted like dark chocolate and perhaps berries? She found that she liked the feel of his beard against her chin. 

He broke away from her for just a minute, to gaze at her and brush a strand of blonde from her face. Her heart was beating so rapidly and his gaze was just so intense—God. 

“I forgot to ask my May Queen,” He said softly and to her surprise, his voice was shaking. “If that was all right.”

How had she affected him so much?

She had forgotten how to use language. She nodded mutely and Pelle tilted her head towards him and kissed her again. But this time, she wanted to taste more.

Dani found herself leaning towards him. He fell back against the soft cushions of the settee and boldly, she pushed herself onto him and straddled his lap. His kisses became more impassioned at this, and he knocked the crown of hollies off her in order to card her hair between his fingers. She moaned a little at that (her scalp had always been deliciously sensitive) and mirrored the action herself. She wanted to feel his own gentle curls, the color of hay in the sunlight. 

He paused the kisses in order to taste along her jawline, down the soft places of her neck. She looked up at the ceiling and actually cried out when she felt his teeth against her earlobe—who knew that was such a sensitive spot? His lips traveled all the way down to her collarbone and shoulders. 

She felt his hands shift over her skirt. But when his fingers touched the skin of her thighs, she froze. 

Pelle noticed immediately. “Dani?”

She swallowed. She was going to fuck it up again. It had been so nice kissing him, feeling desired, adored. How long had it been since she’d had a good long makeout session on a couch, anyway? Christian always expected sex afterwards and seeing as how she always bungled that…of course Pelle would expect it too, and once he realized how bad she was—

“Dani, Dani,” Pelle brushed her cheek and kissed her soundly. “You flew away from me.”

“I-I’m sorry,” She stammered. “I just—”

“Remember,” He cupped her cheeks with his hands. “You are the May Queen. Tonight is about what you desire. Tonight and every night. I am your consort. I will do whatever you wish.”

The earnestness in his voice relieved her. He was right. She was the May Queen. 

“If I wanted to go to bed,” Dani cleared her throat. “By myself—you wouldn’t be mad?”

“Of course not,” He smiled at her and kissed her lips, sweetly and gently. “I hope you’d let me tuck you in.”

She took a deep breath. “If I just wanted to kiss you…not do anything but kiss…”

“How blessed I would be,” Pelle murmured and leaned his forehead against hers. 

She tugged a lock of his hair anxiously. “You really wouldn’t be…disappointed?”

“Disappointed, hmm…” Pelle considered the word and Dani’s stomach dropped. “I will do whatever you wish, Dani, happily and joyfully. But I think Christian has been unfair to you—I know you don’t believe that. I would be disappointed if I didn’t get a chance to prove that.”

She let the tips of her fingers brush against his beard. “How?”

He smiled at her languidly. He said nothing. He didn’t need to. The male pride in his gaze almost made her falter in her thinking. But she’d never been able to come with another person before…

“Pelle…” She averted her gaze. “Christian said it took too long.”

For the first time, Pelle did look angry, though she was fairly certain it wasn’t directed towards her. He looked towards the blazing fireplace, the bear rug in front of it, and something like satisfaction altered his expression. 

“Well,” He said finally. “We’re here all winter.”

That made her laugh. She needed to laugh for a moment. It was embarrassing to admit all this and the fact that Pelle hadn’t argued with her about it, perhaps to avoid her digging her heels into the idea, made her feel marvelous. It was such a delicious idea, spending the night with him, and it made her feel more relaxed that she could stop at any moment and he wouldn’t be angry with her. Hell, she was fully straddling his lap and she could feel his desire for her quite plainly through their linen clothes. If it were Christian, he’d be complaining about blue balls by now…

Something stirred in her chest, a weird strain of courage. “Show me.”

His eyes lit up and he was kissing her fiercely again, chocolate and berries, and she moaned at how addictive he tasted. She fumbled with the strings on her dress and it fell down her shoulders, revealing a thin cotton slip. Pelle’s mouth went down to her breast, pulling the straps down, suckling her nipple. His tongue laved against her and she hissed through her teeth at how good it felt. He turned his attention to her other breast and hummed against her skin in pleasure. 

Pelle returned to her mouth with his consuming kisses. At her nod, he pulled the rest of her dress off, leaving her only in the shift. He then lay her down on the settee and kissed her inner wrist. He pulled off his own shirt and Dani’s eyes widened at his golden skin. 

“May I…” He fingered the fabric of her slip. 

“Um—yeah—” She sat up and he helped her slide it off of her. Now she was completely exposed before him. 

She didn’t hate her body—not really. She just thought it was sort of…average. She wasn’t incredibly skinny, she didn’t have amazing curves, she was small and compact and a Swedish diet of dairy, meat, and pastries hadn’t exactly toned her figure. But as Pelle traced his hands down her chest, between her breasts, there was nothing but admiration and reverence in his gaze—as though he really was staring at a goddess. 

He looked down at her, his dark blue eyes filled with wonder. “Dani, you’re so small,” He murmured. “And so powerful…”

Powerful? What on earth did he mean? But it didn’t matter, because now he was kissing down her belly, his hot tongue dawdling at her bellybutton, and finally reaching her inner thighs. 

She shivered for a moment and Pelle paused. His eyes, ordinarily the color of the winter sky, were dark as a summer storm. He really…wanted this?

“Dani,” His voice was soft and pleading. “May I?”

Her breathing hitched. Christian had never done this—never even offered. It was not something she ever asked for; the idea of laying herself so starkly vulnerable, before Christian who criticized her for everything from her relationship to her sister to what she was wearing—it wasn’t appealing. But the abject desire in Pelle’s voice, the soft plea, and the certainty that if she didn’t like it, he would stop—all of this led to her whispering her assent. 

The heat of his tongue surprised her, not unpleasantly. She tensed but he moved slowly, letting his lips caress her inner skin, rubbing his nose in her dark curls. She almost felt embarrassed—it had been a while since she shaved—but Pelle didn’t seem to care.

“Ah, Dani,” Pelle moaned into her curls. “You taste like…summer…”

His tongue curled into her and Dani gasped. Pelle’s mouth moved faster now and she was shocked to discover how good it felt, how his tongue seemed to spark electricity into her blood and fire into her skin. He alternated his pace, quick to slow, slow to quick, his tongue circling and sucking her clit. She felt the pleasure rise and rise, more intensely than anything she’d ever tried to do herself.

“Pelle,” She gasped, her fingers grasping his hair. He hummed against her and lifted her leg over his shoulder. He probed more deeply, exploring her folds, dragging his tongue against her in long sensuous strokes.

“My queen,” Pelle’s voice was near a growl. “My Dani…” He said something else in Swedish, something dark and husky that turned her bones to water.

Dani was panting now, her body screaming for release. But Pelle was taking his time, drawing out each exquisite moment of pleasure. He had wanted to prove to her that she wasn’t “frigid” or whatever else Christian had told his buddies…and fuck if he wasn’t succeeding…

After another sweetly agonizing swipe of his tongue, Dani cried out. Responding to her harmony, he sucked her clit gently yet fiercely, and Dani came undone. She shuddered and moaned, pulling so hard at his hair that it must’ve hurt, but Pelle said nothing, not a thing, just lapped her like a cat, prolonging every single moment of pleasure for as long as he could. 

When the white hot fire receded from her eyes, she came to her senses and deep exhaustion fell over her like a blanket. She was still trembling and Pelle gathered her in his arms. 

“Let me take you to bed, my queen,” He said quietly. A part of her wondered if he wasn’t annoyed—he’d spent all this time servicing her, asking nothing in return…and God had she loved it. The lack of expectation, the insistence, for once it had been selfishly about her and—and—

He hadn’t lied. He tucked her into an ebony framed bed, covering her sated body with a down blanket. She snatched his wrist and pulled him into bed with her—not for anything else, just to…just to…

Just to be held.

And Pelle did so, all night long.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more. Stick with me!


	3. Chapter 3

In Pelle’s dreams, he saw her dancing.

It was the first time she smiled. No, that wasn’t right. She had smiled when he had given her the birthday sketch, touched that someone remembered her. That someone saw her. But while the smile had been sincere, it was tinged with Christian disappointing her. Christian hurting her. Even his art could not overcome that.

But when she danced with her future handmaids, she forgot her pain. She was caught up in the embrace of his family, the exhilaration of the dance, and became…joyous. She laughed like a child, threw her hair back as she held the hands of her handmaids. Her laughter touched something deep inside Pelle and he knew in that singular moment that he wanted to make her laugh, make her smile, bring her joy…forever. And when her excitement disappeared, when she caught Christian’s disapproving gaze and her face fell…Pelle knew he wanted Christian to suffer. And suffer he did. 

But in this dream, it was not the violent music of the villagers that he saw Dani listen to. Instead, it was a woman’s voice, someone who sounded like his mother, singing a lullaby or a folk song from long ago. He realized with a jolt that it was the same song, but darker, slower, more melodic. And as Dani danced, a shadowy figure appeared and danced with her. The figure had hoofed feet and played the fiddle for her. He looked familiar to Pelle, like a younger version of his father, perhaps, but his eyes gleamed in the darkness. No, that wasn’t right…the eyes were burning like hot embers. The way the temple burned to the ground in front of them all last summer. But Dani was entranced and jubilant. 

The song was a popular folk song played all over Sweden, covered by everyone from metal bands to choirs. It told the tale of the devil disguising himself as a fiddler and leading a group of young women away from the comforts of their village into an eternal orgasmic dance until they fell to their feet. 

The Christian implications were clear. The Devil seducing wayward women who forgot their new God too easily. But for the Hårga, the meaning was obscured. The dark one, too easily defined by the Christians as the Devil, led the women in a willing sacrificial dance. They gave up their lives for the sake of the village, as was their way. And the dark one was not one half of a simplistic theological binary. He—or she, depending on the tale—was far more complex. The dark one represented the bloody darkness of sacrifice, of sexual desire, the pain of birth, the rot of and stink of decay, everything that was accepted and part of the life of the Hårga. Not as something to be feared or a punishment, but all part of a glorious dance. 

In his dream, he saw the fiddler dance with Dani. But instead of her falling to her death, the fiddler stopped his mysterious melody. He knelt before her and Pelle recognized the fiddler as himself—but shrouded in darkness with cloven feet. Dani touched the crown of his head. For she was the goddess. His goddess. 

Pelle’s eyes flicked open. Dani was nestled against his chest and his heartbeat sped as he looked at her. He dreamed of her as his May Queen, yes, but there was something more to the dream. The gods had sent it, surely. Dani was something more than their May Queen, their future leader. But what? 

He could not interpret dreams on an empty stomach. He wanted hot coffee and a large breakfast ready for Dani when she awoke. So he gently kissed her forehead and rolled away from her. She frowned in her sleep at the absence of his warmth and he stroked her head gently before heading downstairs.

****

When Dani awoke, she was alone.

She sleepily stretched out her arm, searching for Pelle’s warmth. She felt nothing but cold sheets and her eyes shot open.

Winter sunlight flooded the master bedroom. She blinked blearily at her surroundings. Memories from last night flooded her mind, the black dress, the Hårga’s harmonies, Pelle’s tongue…heat filled her cheeks.

She sat up a little and moved towards the left-hand window next to her bed. Snow blanketed the ground and frosted the trees. It looked like something out of a fairytale, out of Narnia. It was beautifully inviting and she felt the intense urge to walk around in it. She swallowed. Her family had died the night of a terrible snowstorm. Snow always seemed ominous and cruel. But here… 

She wrapped her blankets around her and she wondered again where Pelle went off to. Was he mad at her? Sometimes when she didn’t want to have sex but still wanted to cuddle with Christian, he’d get angry and leave in the middle of the night. She’d be too embarrassed to bring it up in the morning, and Christian would refuse to speak to her, icily drinking his coffee. This didn’t seem like something Pelle would do, but surely he’d heard Christian’s complaints… 

Dani hugged her knees and listened. She thought she could hear movement downstairs. “Pelle?” She called out tentatively. 

There was no response. She hugged her knees a little tighter and let the dread rise in her chest. 

Before panic could completely consume her, her door popped open and Pelle peered inside. 

“Did you call me?” He looked at her in concern, huddled in her blankets. “I was making you coffee. And some breakfast.”

“I thought you might have left.”

She winced—the words sounded pathetic out loud. But Pelle cocked his head, a little like a spaniel. 

“Go? Where would I go?” He teased.

“I—I don’t know,” Dani mumbled. He went to her and sat on the corner of the bed. He touched squeezed her knee.

“Sorry,” She rested her head on her knees. “I’m being paranoid. Christian would get mad at me if I didn’t—mornings would be awkward.”

Pelle frowned at that. “Why on earth would I be mad at you?”

Dani combed her fingers through her hair. “I just don’t like waking up alone.”

His eyes widened. She looked away from him in embarrassment. He came fully on the bed and wrapped his arms around her. She leaned into his warmth and the two of them fell softly onto the bed. 

“I will never let you wake up alone again,” He murmured in her ear. “I promise. Forgive me?”

There was nothing to forgive. She rested her head on his chest and listened to the sound of his heartbeat. 

“Did you sleep all right?” He asked. “Would you like me to bring you your breakfast?”

She nodded, still embarrassed. He held her warmly and stood, making his way out of the bedroom to retrieve it. 

He returned with a tea tray with a large silver coffeepot and thick white mugs. She noticed thin, dark slices of toasted bread on the tray and an assortment of spreads. She had been in Sweden long enough to recognize the fare, which included butter, cheese, thin slices of ham, pickles, cucumber, and tomatoes. 

“And something else,” Pelle said with a smile. He brought another plate that was stacked with waffles and Dani beamed.

“I love waffles,” She took the plate and happily started eating. “My favorite food.”

“I know.”

Dani snorted. “Did Christian tell you that?”

Pelle shook his head. “Do you remember when we first met?”

She thought for a moment. Meeting Pelle? Honestly, meeting Christian’s friends had blurred together. She had seen them sporadically, the nights she spent at Christian’s apartment, the parties she accompanied him at. She didn’t remember the first time she met Pelle. 

“I know Christian introduced us,” She offered hesitantly. “But I don’t remember exactly when. Sorry.”

Pelle shrugged. “I don’t expect you to. But I remember. It was after a…late night. Mark had dragged us all to a party across town. We stayed there till about 7AM. All I wanted to do was go back to my bedroom and sleep for the rest of time, but Christian wanted coffee and he didn’t want to go to the cafeteria by himself. He knew you’d be there and he didn’t want you to know where he’d been.”

Dani frowned. Christian often told her that he’d had late night study sessions with the guys…it shouldn’t surprise her that this was less than accurate. 

“I hadn’t met you yet. I’d only been in the States for about a week—I arrived a little later in the semester…visa issues. I was heavily jetlagged, exhausted from the parties Mark dragged us to, and the last thing I wanted to do was cover for Christian.” Pelle grimaced at the memory.

“But he insisted,” He stretched out onto the bed and took a piece of toast. “And we went into the cafeteria. All I wanted was coffee and the coffee machine was broken. I was muttering to myself in Swedish, so they wouldn’t know how irritated I was…and you came up to our table to say hi to Christian. You were wearing pajama pants, ones with little black bears on them. I thought you looked so cute.”

“I was in my pajamas?!” Dani groaned a little. It was silly to be embarrassed by this reminiscence. But she was a college student after all, and no college student went anywhere before 10:00AM in anything but pajamas. 

“You were beautiful,” Pelle smiled at her and tugged a lock of her hair. “And you waxed poetic about how much you loved waffles, though your mother’s were better. I looked at you and Christian and thought about all the things Christian had said about you…and I felt angry. And jealous. For the first time, I was…envious of something he had. And I hated him for it.”

Pelle had been…jealous? Of her? 

A draft made her shiver. “Was that—was that the reason you chose him? To come here?”

He shook his head. “I chose him before I met you. But…the truth is, Dani, he made me so furious with him for how he treated you. I confess…I encouraged him to break up with you, along with Mark and Josh. But my reasons were entirely selfish.”

A smile crept onto her face. “What, were you planning on asking me out if Christian had broken up with me?”

“Certainly not,” Pelle stroked her back affectionately. “How could I ask the gods for such an honor? It would be like demanding the moon and stars come down and dance for me. No, I only wanted him to stop hurting you and treating you cruelly. But after you lost your family…well, I knew the only way to separate you both permanently would be our trip to Sweden. I never imagined he’d bring you as well.”

Dani never imagined it either. She never intended on forcing Christian’s hand. She hadn’t particularly wanted to go to Sweden. But the way Christian had thrown it at her like a dagger, “if you’re so upset about it, you can come, I just didn’t want to invite you because you were going through so much!” He had expected her to turn him down. It felt good to take him up on the offer, to force him to tell the rest of his band that Yoko Ono was coming too. Even if she felt the rest of his friends’ displeasure acutely. 

Pelle ran his fingers through his hair and gazed up at the ceiling. “He nearly spoiled everything. I was…terrified that you were coming too.”

She cocked her head towards him. Pelle’s admission was interesting. Like Josh and Mark, he hadn’t wanted her to come—but it seemed to out of a worry for her life, not because she was breaking up the band. 

“I can’t really say I’m sorry for it,” She admitted and Pelle laughed.

“I’m a believer in a higher power, Dani,” He smiled at her in a tender way that made her heart ache. “When I learned that your birthday was over Midsommar…and the way you shone like the sun among my family…I knew you were sent here for a reason. I didn’t know what reason. I just knew I was the gods’ courier. And now…you are our May Queen. Nothing was coincidence.”

Dani stared at him seriously. “What would have happened? If I were chosen to be sacrificed for Midsommar?” 

Pelle shook his head briskly. “Oh no. That would not have happened. Of this I am sure.”

“But what if it had?” She persisted. “What would you have done?”

He hesitated. It was because of Pelle that Mark, Josh, and Christian were all dead. The night Josh disappeared, Dani had woken up and seen both Josh and Pelle’s empty beds. She suspected Josh’s desperation to create a stronger thesis would lead him to do something reckless and she had no doubt that Pelle had distributed the consequences. She was no friend of Josh’s; he had considered her an annoyance and distraction of Christian’s. But when Christian had declared to him that the Hårga would now be his thesis…even Dani thought it was a scummy thing to do. 

“I would not have let it happen.”

Pelle’s voice, so low and barely above a whisper jerked Dani out of her reminisces. She looked at him somewhat astonished. Pelle’s loyalty to his village was one of his distinguishing characteristics. It was an almost rebellious thing to say. And it seemed that he considered the statement selfish; pink tinged his cheeks and he averted his gaze in shame. 

He cleared his throat. “But it never would have happened. The moment Siv saw you…she sensed something about you. Everything aligned together. The day of your birth, Midsommar, your coronation…all of it was fated. You were fated to be our queen.” 

His eyes met hers. “My queen.”

Heat coursed through Dani’s body. Pelle was looking at her that way, that heart-wrenching and tender way that made her feel short of breath. She felt the strong desire to kiss him again.

Well, why not? I am the May Queen, aren’t I?

She brought her lips to his and she felt him gasp at her boldness. Last night it was Pelle who took control, who kissed her and apologized for taking the liberty. But she didn’t have to apologize. He was here to serve her, to adore her, to please her, and he seemed only to happy to oblige. She so loved how he tasted in the morning…a heady combination of dark coffee and sugar from the glazed rolls. 

Dani could feel him hardening against her and to her delight, it no longer made her anxious. It didn’t matter how much she turned him on, Pelle would never guilt her or get angry with her; whatever boundaries or limits she set for herself. The wild comfort of this made her kiss him even harder and run her fingers down his chest. 

She paused in her ministrations to observe him. He opened his heavy-lidded eyes and murmured, “Now I shall make you breakfast every morning.”

She laughed and kissed him again. She wanted to taste him everywhere, the flavor of his cheekbones, the smooth curve of his neck, his lovely, golden chest. She pushed him down onto the bed and pinned his arms. He watched her in utter rapture. 

“I want you,” Dani admitted. “I haven’t…I haven’t wanted someone like this in a long time. Or I guess…I haven’t felt comfortable wanting someone like this in a long time.” 

His gaze was tender. “This is how it should be, Dani. This is how you should be loved. It…infuriates me that you’ve known anything else.”

She swallowed. “There’s something else.”

Pelle raised an eyebrow.

“When I have sex…sometimes it hurts. Most of the time it hurts, actually. My gyno called it ‘vaginismus’. I tense up and I can’t handle penetration. I was working with someone on it before—before my parents died, but…I just…” She looked away from him. “I’m embarrassed about it.”

She released his arms and he immediately cupped her face. His finger stroked down her cheek, but she could not meet his gaze. 

“Did Christian know?” Pelle asked.

“I told him,” Dani kept her eyes fixed on the bedspread. “I don’t think he believed me. He just said I was frigid and needed to relax. And then accused me of blaming him for our sex life being bad and I—it was just a mess.”

She twisted a lock of her hair in anxiety. “But I wanted to tell you because—because I feel like you’re doing all the giving and I’m not—I’m not giving back.” 

“Oh, Dani,” Pelle sat up and wrapped his arms around her. “You’re thinking about this all wrong. This isn’t a transaction. You are not a vending machine; I do not give you affection in exchange for sex. This is an expression of my feelings for you and yours for me. I told you truthfully last night; if you never wanted to have penetrative sex, that would be all right. You are my May Queen, my summer goddess, and I will worship you however you want.”

She gazed at him levelly. “But what if I want to give back to you?”

He smiled at her. “Then I will gladly receive. But on your terms. Within your boundaries. With the knowledge that you can stop if ever you should feel uncomfortable.” 

Dani stared at him as he ran his fingers through her hair. He tilted his head in a silent question. 

“I was just wondering how I got so caught up in Christian when you were right there.” She murmured and it made him laugh. 

“I didn’t exactly make my presence known,” He chuckled and gently flipped her over on her back. “But now, my queen…with your permission…”

Pelle’s lips traced down her skin and lingered at her breasts. She was rather small-chested; another source of insecurity in her previous relationship (Christian had made no secret of his preference for women with bigger tits) but Pelle worshiped them reverently with his tongue. She cried out when his tongue flicked over her nipple and sucked gently. His teeth grazed over the sensitive buds and Dani curled her fingers into the sheets. How was his mouth so good? 

His fingers stroked down the length of her sides until she felt them approach her inner thighs. She took a deep breath and tried to force herself to relax—always a lost cause, relaxation could not be forced. But she so badly wanted to just let go and enjoy herself with Pelle…

“Dani,” Pelle murmured in her ear. His fingers lazily circled her thighs, nowhere near her core. She looked up at him.

“Do you remember when we went bowling?”

She thought. “I think so?”

“It was in the fall,” Pelle told her and she felt the tension leave her shoulders as he continued to massage her thighs. “But a hot fall day. There was a large group of us. Boys against the girls. You and a few friends, Mark’s girlfriend at the time, a girl I invited for an even number…you beat us soundly.”

“I…do remember that,” She reached up to touch Pelle’s beard. “And the girl you brought. She was pretty.”

He grinned at her. “Vivian. She was dating a girl named Andrea. But a very fun girl. She told me not to invite her to things with Mark and Christian again. But she knew how I felt about you. She teased me mercilessly, especially when you came in that little sundress…”

Dani buried her head in his shoulder. “You remember what I was wearing?”

“Of course. A little white sundress with sunflowers on it. It was very…distracting.”

His voice became husky and his fingers traveled up her thighs, barely grazing her. Electricity swam through Dani’s veins as she tried to remember why she wore a sundress to a bowling alley. 

“Oh,” She whispered. “That was it. It was—it was my mother’s birthday. We took her out for Sunday brunch. I didn’t have time to change…I was really worried about the dress smelling like cigarette smoke…”

“You sat next to me at one of the little tables,” Pelle’s fingers teased her inner folds, stroking in and out—not enough for her to tense. He was as gentle as butterfly wings and Dani began to feel heat travel up her core. 

“I was trying so hard not to stare at you,” Pelle bit her earlobe and she squeaked. “I could not believe Christian barely looked at you.”

Dani remembered. “He was talking to the girl you brought. Vivian. She was wearing a crop top. She had all these tattoos…”

“Vivian thought he was ridiculous,” Pelle sucked on her earlobe gently. “But she thought it was funny to keep him distracted while I talked to you. You were swinging your legs back and forth. You smelled like strawberries and mint and I was losing my mind.”

His fingers delved deeper inside her and to Dani’s surprise, she did not experience that familiar twinge of pain. His voice had relaxed her; she was becoming flushed and heated at the memory of her sitting in a bowling alley, innocently driving Pelle crazy. 

“What did—what did you want to do to me?” She half-panted and Pelle groaned at the question. His fingers probed deeper but still so gently, backing off at any sort of resistance, circling her clit with each penetration. 

“I wanted to take you, right there on that sticky table. I wanted to knock off all the beers and kiss you until you were breathless.” To show her his point, he captured her lips and Dani moaned at the vivid image. 

“I wanted to make love to you in front of Christian. Have him see you screaming and wet; lick every inch of you until you were trembling. I wanted you to feel every inch of me and I wanted to see Christian’s face as I did it.”

Dani’s back arched as Pelle’s fingers entered her more deeply. It didn’t hurt. She didn’t know if it was because she felt so relaxed and sated in Pelle’s arms or if it was his husky voice velveting every single word he spoke, but for the first time, it did not feel like violation. She ached for him.

But not yet. While his fingers thrust within her, his thumb rubbed against her soaking clit and just as in his fantasy, Dani cried out hoarsely, waves of pleasure rocketing her forward. 

“It’s almost a shame he is dead,” Pelle whispered in her ear, thrusting his fingers inside and out, over and over. “I wish he could see you like this. I wish I could’ve done this to him before he died. But I’ll not lie to you my Queen, when you sentenced him to death, I smiled and praised the old gods for you.”

Dani was gasping. She watched dazedly as Pelle pulled his fingers out of her sopping core and, looking her straight in the eye, tasted her off his fingers. She tried to say something but it only came out in a sated moan. He then kissed her again and she could taste her own salty-sweetness on her tongue. 

She leaned back on her pillows and tried to return to sanity, Pelle’s fingers lazily carding her hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always wanted to write a smut fic that involved vaginismus, which is not something that is talked about enough. It was always my headcanon that Dani had vaginismus, which made it all that much more painful when she caught Christian cheating on her.
> 
> Her vaginismus will be explored a little more in further chapters, but I want to make it clear that you can still have all the orgasms even if you never have penetrative sex. And if you DO want to have penetrative sex, vaginismus is not permanent and you can work with physical therapists (and good boyfriends/girlfriends) or sex therapists.


	4. Chapter 4

Dani wanted to walk in the snow.

Pelle was unsure about this idea. He asked her multiple times if she was sure, presumably remembering her family’s death during a bitterly cold snowy day. He was afraid the wintery bluster would be a trigger for her and he was right to think it. Anywhere else in the world, it would have been. 

But she didn’t feel the terrible weight of grief and abandonment here. She only saw an enchanted snowy land that begged for a peaceful walk with her…boyfriend? Consort? 

The snow crunched beneath Dani’s feet delightfully. She took a deep breath of icy Swedish air and exhaled slowly, watching in amusement her own breath. When she was little, Terri and she would pretend to be dragons as they waited for the school bus. When school was out, they would swipe cafeteria trays and sled down the school hill before catching the late bus home. Their mother never knew any different.

She missed sledding. She wondered if they sledded here in Sweden. She would have to ask Pelle, who walked with her, her small hand in his. It almost felt as though they were an ordinary couple, though Dani wasn’t sure if she should define them that way. Did a “consort” count as a “boyfriend”? Did she want Pelle as a boyfriend? The word seemed inadequate to their relationship, dismissive at best. She did not want a boyfriend. She wanted no trappings of a normal life. All of that had burned with Christian. 

They walked together in the woods, a slow and moseying path. Dani picked up pinecones here and there and even kicked a small snowdrift for fun. Pelle watched her with a happy pride in his gaze, so pleased at her love for the winter, which often overwhelmed his beloved village. 

“It’s so dark,” She marveled finally, after an hour or so of strolling in the snow.

“It will get much darker,” Pelle told her easily. “Yule is only six weeks away. The darkest evening of the year.”

Dani cocked her head. “What happens on Yule?”

“Oh, many things. A mighty boar hunt—all of the men participate. Boars are dangerous animals to hunt, but that is why it’s such an honor to Freya to slay one. And then a three day feast. The village will come to celebrate you again and you will bless Odin in disguise—probably will be Father Odd in costume, but who knows? Strange things happen around this time of year.”

Dani blinked a little at this pronouncement and Pelle laughed at her confusion. 

“Your people are fond of Christmas miracles,” He teased a little. “And they aren’t far off, you know. Midwinter is a time of magic and blessing. Ghost stories and gods. Anything could happen.”

“Anything, hmm,” Dani mused. She stopped for a moment to examine a pine tree bedecked with garlands and wondered if it was done as part of the Yule preparations. Pelle walked a little further on, following the tracks of a fox or some other wintery animal. Dani watched him walk on and a burst of mischievousness flooded her. 

She casually bent down, as though to readjust the laces on her winter boots. Pelle noticed nothing, simply called to her that he’d found a burrow if she wanted to see. She scooped up a large ball of snow and stood quickly. Pelle’s back was to her. In one fluid motion, she flung the snowball forward and it hit Pelle directly on the upper part of his back.

He whirled around her in shock and she burst into delighted laughter. Wicked mischief of his own lit his expression and he stooped to make his own snowball and threw it as hard as he could.

But Dani was prepared for retaliation and dodged it easily. At this, Pelle charged towards her and she squealed like a mouse to his cat, and made a run for it.

Pelle caught up to her easily and snatched her around the waist. She kicked playfully and he sank into the snow, allowing her to straddle him completely. She pinned his arms down and smiled, as inspiration struck—she moved his arms up and down to make a somewhat deformed snow angel.

He allowed these ministrations and watched her in rapture, with that same adoring expression that Dani loved. She lowered her face to his and he captured her lips in a bitingly cold kiss. 

She laughed into his mouth. “We’re going to catch pneumonia.”

“Not me,” Pelle kissed the corner of her mouth, her chin, her jawline. “I grew up in these winters.” His hands found her leggings and quickly darted up her thighs to the waistband. His cold fingers slid underneath to touch her skin and she hissed at the sensation. 

“If you keep that up,” She murmured into his neck. “We’ll both be naked and then we’ll definitely catch pneumonia.”

The glint in Pelle’s blue eyes, the color of the bright winter sky above them, promised her that he was willing to take that risk. 

But the mischief in his eyes dissipated when Dani sneezed. He sighed a little and then pulled both of them up. 

“Hot chocolate,” He prescribed, taking her hand. “Maybe some of Hanna’s soup—she left some at our doorstep this morning. Excellent for chilly days.”

Our doorstep. The turn of phrase made her shiver a little.

“Can we take another walk at sunset?” Dani requested. “I want to see the color of the woods when the sun sets.”

He looked at her so admiringly she actually blushed. But she was fascinated by the different colors of winter this isolated place had. The morning had been golden-pink, striking the snow around them with a violent but captivating light. She had lain in Pelle’s arms for a long time, watching the sunlight dance across the snow, pointing out the deer that made their way lazily across the yard. 

“Anything the Queen wants,” Pelle kissed her temple. 

When they reentered the cabin, he settled her on the loveseat and wrapped her in blankets while he went to the kitchenette to prepare her hot chocolate and soup. She watched him tenderly, as he moved fluidly around the kitchen, selecting the largest mug. She smiled when he victoriously shook a bag of mini marshmallows towards her.

He took such good care of her. He did everything for her. But what had she done for him?

Dani’s brow furrowed. She couldn’t go down that road. Pelle was right, sex wasn’t a transaction. It was an expression of how two people felt for each other—whether that was simply lust, love, attraction, chemistry, friendship…it encompassed all manner of things. And in this moment, Dani desperately wanted to express her love and gratitude for Pelle…

Love? Had she really just thought that?

She stood quite suddenly, the blankets falling from her shoulders. She went to the kitchenette where Pelle had very nearly finished her hot chocolate. He quirked an eyebrow at her entrance.

Anticipation tickled across her skin. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him chastely. He hummed at her kiss, his hands lazily carding her hair and Dani broke away from him every so slightly. 

His dark linen shirt was open and she kissed his golden skin. Impatiently, she tugged its ends and ordered, “Take it off.”

Surprise filled his deep blue eyes, but he obeyed quickly. She examined him with interest. Pelle had blindsided her with pleasure for the past two days; she hadn’t had a chance to really take him in. She noticed a small tattoo over his heart—a black symbol, a rune perhaps, that looked like an angular “n”. She traced the tattoo and looked up at him in question.

“We get them before we leave for our journey,” He said softly. “To mark the transition into adulthood.”

“What does it mean?”

“Úr. It’s…complicated to explain. It can mean iron, or rain. Or my zodiac.” 

“Taurus,” She recalled a brief conversation with Pelle, long before any of this madness, where they exchanged zodiac signs. 

“April 21st,” Pelle replied. “Right on the cusp. I…shift between Aries and Taurus. Just as you shift between Gemini and Cancer. It’s why we were matched so closely. We are astrologically in sync.” He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek and she flushed at this assessment.

Iron…that steely resolve, firm in his duties no matter the cost. His loyalty to his home, his family. But he was also as gentle as rain on a summer day. 

“Do you have any other tattoos?” Dani asked curiously.

He smiled and nodded. “Two more. We get three when we come of age.”

“Where?”

His grin became impish. “You’ll have to find them.”

That sounded just fine to Dani. Her eyes glowed at the prospect and she took her time stroking the planes of his golden chest, pausing to kiss his nipple. She felt his chest inhale sharply at this and she smiled, letting her teeth barely graze him. Pelle let out a strangled, guttural noise. 

Dani’s fingers drifted towards the button of his jeans. She kissed his stomach slowly and surely, letting her lips float downwards…and then Pelle’s eyes shot open and he suddenly grabbed her wrist.

“Dani,” His voice came out in a pained hiss. “You don’t have to…do that.”

She could feel his body heartily disagreeing with this proclamation, but she appreciated him saying so nonetheless. 

“I want to find your tattoos,” She said innocently and he let out a shaky laugh. 

“You are very close,” Pelle raked his fingers through his hair. “But Dani…you don’t have to—”

“I want to,” She declared. “Are you going to defy your May Queen?”

Fire blazed in his sky blue eyes. “Never,” He breathed and she smirked at this, unzipping his pants and freeing him. 

He was beautifully erect; hard and swollen, and Dani gazed at this in fascination. This was never something she felt she was particularly good at. A chore with Christian, something she did for him as a bartering tool to keep him from asking for penetrative sex, which hurt so badly. But with Pelle it was so different, so exciting, something she wanted to give to him, not as an exchange, not as a transaction, just as a sweeping act of pleasure for the man she…the man she…

It was a dangerous, maddening thought, so Dani chose not to finish it, instead licking the tip of his cock. Pelle gasped and leaned backwards against the kitchen counter, his white knuckles gripping the edge of the countertop. Dani’s tongue swiped the underside of his length and then she paused for a moment, looking up at him.

“Put your hand in my hair.” 

His hands trembled as he obeyed her command and she shivered at the electric sensations that swam down her neck as his fingers tightened in her hair. She took him into her mouth deeply, wrapping her hand around his base. He was hot against her tongue, tasting of a salty masculine earthiness. Her lips curved into a smile around his cock; he tasted so much better than Christian, so much truer. Her tongue fluttered against his salty skin and Pelle’s hips jerked against her involuntarily. 

“Du dödar mig,” He growled. His hand matted themselves harder in her hair and she moaned against his cock at how good it felt when he tugged her hair.

Dani took him in deeper, feeling supremely grateful for her strong gag reflex. Her mouth was wet and messy as worked his cock in and out of her throat, humming in time with Pelle’s gasps. 

When she had taken him in as far as she could…she noticed the second tattoo. It was located just on the right side of V of his hips, right before skin became golden hair. was smaller than the Úr rune and looked like a less-than sign in English. She slowly drew his length out of her mouth and pressed her lips to the rune.

“Två,” Pelle’s voice shook. “It’s…kenaz. It means…cunning. Controlled fire. Acquiring secrets, opportunity…”

She took him into her mouth again, enjoying the feel and weight of him in her mouth. He swore violently in Swedish, his fingers digging sweet pleasure-pain into her scalp. To think he’d tried to stop her, tell her she didn’t have to do this…and here she had never felt more powerful or in charge of herself.

“Dani,” His voice was pleading. “If you keep—I’m going to—”

Good, she thought to herself, sliding his cock as far as she could into her throat. I want you to. I want everything from you, Pelle, I want to taste you, I want all of you inside me—

She let her teeth graze against him every so slightly and he cried out her name, his hips jerking erratically. She grabbed the back of his thighs and encouraged him to thrust into her throat.

Pelle’s release spilled into her as his knees went slack and he braced himself against the counter to keep from falling. She let him out of her mouth slowly and surely, tugging his forearms to join her on the floor.

He sank to his knees and snatched her into a powerful kiss. This surprised her—Christian would never kiss her after she went down on him, but Pelle merely groaned at the taste of his fluids and her mouth. 

“Fuck, Dani,” He murmured into her lips. She curled up shyly on his lap and he lazily twisted a lock of her golden hair between his fingers. 

“I’m supposed to serve you,” He tugged her earlobe with his other hand. “Not the other way around.” 

“It pleased me to see you lose control,” Dani said in a regal voice and he laughed.

“I lose control every moment I’m with you, sötnos,” He said ruefully. “It’s almost gotten me into trouble…”

“Hm?” She quirked her head at this.

“I’ll explain later,” He sighed and kissed her temple. “Give me five minutes to recover and then I’ll finish your hot chocolate.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's been a lot of fanon discussion on what Pelle and Dani's zodiacs are. I decided to keep it as close to canon as possible, with a little room for error--I have a friend who's birthday is on September 21st and she waffles between Virgo and Libra at times, so I thought that might be an interesting way to incorporate both fanon and canon. (Also, Taurus and Cancers are super compatible--but so are Gemini and Aries!)
> 
> A lot of time and consideration went into Pelle's tattoos and yes I have a tattoo kink. But where is the third? Guess we'll find out!


End file.
